


Evelyn, Evelyn

by LacrymosaDiesIlla



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/F, Trauma, read summary for trigger warnings, seriously this shit is dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-18 20:44:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20645405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LacrymosaDiesIlla/pseuds/LacrymosaDiesIlla
Summary: Modern AU, very much not canon compliant. Nancy lost the love of her life in the most horrible way imaginable, and now has to bear the reminders of it every day. But when a stranger approaches with an odd invitation, she might just get her life back on track and learn to love again.CW: drug abuse, self harm, suicide, alcohol abuse, eating disorders, terminal illness





	1. Chapter 1

_'Evelyn, Evelyn,_  
_Why do we bother to stay?_  
_Why are you running away?_  
_Don't you feel like severing?_  
_Everything's just come together at last._  
_It's broken, I don't want to play.'_  
  
Nancy's voice bounced off the walls, echoing off the thin layer of water that coated the tile floor and mixing with the sound of shower water hitting the drain. It was 8 at night and she was one of the few people at the YMCA, an intentional fact. The dark, angry scars on her thighs and the shadows of her ribs seemed to make showering in public a spectacle to other people, so she had learned to do it in times where no one could stop and stare at her. It was a bit of a nuisance to go to the Y so late every weekday, but the water was off in the house she shared with four other people, and she had no other choice. It at least gave her a moment of peace and quiet for once, which she was filling with the sound of her own singing voice.  
  
It was a pretty song, forward moving, but sad sounding. At least it was when she sang it, because for her, it was sad. It was a song she used to sing to a special somebody, somebody who wasn't around to hear it anymore.  
  
But, though she didn't know it, there was a different 'somebody' listening, standing just around the corner, out of sight. A tall woman with a freckled face and dirty-blonde hair pulled back into a tiny ponytail stepped out of the shadows as Nancy closed her eyes to shampoo her hair, standing right in front of her until she reopened them.  
  
"Shit!" Nancy jumped back, almost slipping on the wet floor but managing to regain her balance at the last second. She didn't bother to cover any part of her bare body; After all, it was the shower room. It was the clothed woman who was out of place.  
  
"Sorry to scare you," the woman said, reaching out a hand. Nancy stared at it, not sure what she was supposed to do. It slowly dawned on her that it was an attempt at a handshake so, confused, she reached out and reciprocated slowly. "My name's Robin Buckley, and you might be exactly what I've been looking for."  
  
Nancy blinked slowly, having to take a second to do a mental inventory of her body and make sure she was sober. She hadn't shot up in over a year, but this 'Robin's' cryptic words made her feel like she was back on smack. "What do you mean?" she asked in a slightly raspy voice, knitting her eyebrows together.  
  
"I'm in a band," Robin explained, returning her hand to her side. There was a slight slur to her words, and Nancy looked into her eyes to try and determine if she was drunk. If she was, she couldn't tell. "And we just lost our lead singer. Your voice is _perfect_."  
  
"My voice...?"  
  
"We're looking for a new singer," Robin explained, as if that wasn't obvious. "I'm asking you."  
  
The way she stared at her face made Nancy uncomfortable, but she supposed it was better than her staring at her body. She felt like there was a weird power imbalance, her being nude while the other woman was fully clothed. Maybe that feeling of helplessness was the reason she didn't decline right away. Instead, she turned off the shower and started heading towards the locker room, grabbing a towel on the way out. Robin followed.  
  
"What happened to your singer?" Nancy asked over her shoulder as she wrapped the towel around herself.  
  
"She died," Robin replied matter-of-factly. Nancy shivered, half because of the cold temperature of the locker room and half because of the morbidity. "Drank herself to death in a hotel room."  
  
"Holy shit," Nancy replied, turning to see if she was serious. It appeared that she was. "How long ago was this?"  
  
"A few months," Robin replied with a small shrug. "We're still all mourning, but it's been long enough that we need to start looking for someone new."  
  
Nancy didn't respond to that, going to her locker and getting out a set of clean-ish clothes.  
  
"You don't have to decide right now," Robin continued as she got dressed. "Here, I have a card." She pulled a wallet from her pocket, then fished through it until she found what she was looking for. It was a professional looking card, logo and everything. Nancy took it, then set it on the bench next to her towel as she pulled a pair of underwear over her bony hips. "You can think about it, then call me with any questions. But I'm serious, you've got a great voice. I really hope to hear from you."  
  
"Yeah, we'll see," Nancy replied, mumbling slightly. Shit, she never had been able to take a compliment.  
  
With that, Robin was gone, leaving the now half-dressed Nancy alone with her thoughts. What was that all about? Well, on the surface it seemed she had just been invited to join a band, but _Christ._ The whole situation felt so odd. Robin had been so matter-of-fact, but so _intense._ And that wasn't the worst of it. Her freckles and her blue eyes reminded her so much of... of _Her._ Then again, everything reminded Nancy of Her. Every time the weather got cloudy like She had liked, it reminded her of Her. Every time she was walking somewhere and someone passed by on rollerblades, it was Her. Every time she took her pills, or went to another fucking doctor's appointment...  
  
She shook her head clear and pulled a pair of gray sweatpants over her scarred thighs, then draped a button down shirt over her narrow shoulders and began fumbling with the buttons. Fuck, her hands were shaky and her fingers were stiff from the cold of the air conditioner. It took her forever to get her shirt closed.  
  
Gathering her things - including the card - into a ratty tote bag, she made her way out of the locker room, down the hallway, and up the stairs to the main level of the building. She had to stop at the top of the stairs, slightly winded from the climb, but was quickly on her way again until she was out the door. The air was warm outside, but she knew that there weren't many days like that left. It would be autumn soon, and the temperatures would drop and the house would become unbearably cold and she'd have to wear her coat under the sleeping bag she called a bed. She could barely remember the last time she had lived in a place with heat, but then again, she could barely remember anything anymore. She had fried her brain to mush enough times that all her memories were gray and fuzzy.  
  
She walked the poorly lit sidewalks with one hand in her pocket, the other on her bag. She wasn't scared about being a petite woman out alone at night; To be scared, she'd have to have some semblance of worry over whether she lived or died. And she had lost that when she had lost Her.  
  
Fuck, there She was again. Like she said, everything reminded her of Her.  
  
She made it back to the house unscathed and retrieved her key from her pocket to open the door. She was quiet as she entered, because she knew Mary Lynn started work at 1 AM and would be trying to get some sleep before she had to get up to get ready for that whole ordeal. Though a year younger than Nancy, Mary Lynn paid the largest portion of the rent and therefore held most of the power in the house. Nancy, jobless, paid very little towards rent, and it had been made known to her that she could be out of there any day if that didn't change.  
  
She wondered absently about Robin again as she climbed the stairs up to her shared bedroom. If she were to join this band, would she be compensated? If so, it was a tempting offer, because she had very little luck with trying to get traditional jobs. Having a three year work gap and a drug charge on her record made sure of that.  
  
As she reached the upstairs, she stopped again, doubling over to let her heart rate get back to normal. God dammit, she really needed to figure out how to climb stairs without nearly passing out every time. Once recovered enough, she went into the upstairs bathroom and brushed her teeth, cleaning the toothbrush with a little water from an Dasani bottle next to the sink. There had been a time in her life where she would have scoffed at herself for going to bed at 8:30, but she no longer had any reasons to be awake.  
  
Apparently, neither did Judie, because when she entered their shared room, the older woman was already snoring in the twin bed. Nancy didn't mind the snoring anymore, she had learned a long time ago to sleep with bits of cotton in her ears to drown it out. Actually, she found the hard floor much more disruptive to her sleep, but again, she paid the least rent, so she was at the bottom of the hierarchy, so she was the one who went without a bed.  
  
Stifling a yawn, she unzipped her sleeping bag and climbed inside before zipping it back up. She put her cotton in her ears, then lay her head down on her flat pillow and silently prepared for yet another long night.  
  
The next thing she knew, she was back downtown, in the studio apartment that they had shared. She knew immediately that it was a dream, because even when she had lived in that apartment for real, it had never been so bright and clean. For whatever reason, her mind always made it way nicer than it had been. She didn't have time to ruminate on that, though. She needed to find Her. Because, unlike in real life, in her dreams she had the chance to stop Her.  
  
She knew that, because she had managed to do it before. Sometimes when she had this dream, she could save Her, and they would hold each other and just cry and be together, and she would wake up with the taste of Her on her lips and know that She had been there, somehow. And she would be sad, because it wasn't real, but she still preferred that ending over the other one. Because sometimes, she was too late. And on those nights, she'd find Her somewhere in the apartment - the exact location varied - and She'd be cold and blue and her chest would be still, just like it had been in real life.  
  
That night was one of the latter nights.  
  
"For the love of God-" Nancy woke with a start to hear Judie scrambling out of the bed and landing heavily on her feet on the floor. "If you keep on screaming like that, I'm going to kill you. I'm going to _actually_ kill you, unless Mary Lynn kicks you out first."  
  
"I'm sorry," Nancy didn't realize that she had been crying until the words came out on a sob. "I can't-" She cut off as she felt the Judie's foot in her side - not hard, just a warning tap to get her to shut up. She obeyed, because she knew what it felt like when Judie really wanted to make a point. The older woman stood over her for a few more moments, just seething, then spun around and returned to bed without another word.  
  
Letting out a shaking breath, Nancy rolled over to face the door, waiting to see if any of her other housemates felt like confronting her for waking them up. Apparently, they all realized that Judie had gotten to her first, because no one else appeared. Good, because that meant she could try to get back to sleep. Usually she didn't wake up screaming more than once in a night; Even if the nightmare did repeat itself, she could usually endure it quietly the second time.  
  
And that's exactly what she did. She fell back into sleep, returned to her spot on the floor, wrapped tightly around a corpse, but this time she didn't scream, just whimpered and prayed in a low whisper that this time would be the last time she'd have to relive it. It never was.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning was spent in a familiar fog. Nancy's nightmare had ripped her out of reality, and she hadn't quite wandered back in yet. She couldn't have conjured a coherent thought if she tried.  
  
Even in the absence of her mind, though, her body still managed to pull itself out of the sleeping bag and into a standing position, where she swayed precariously with her arms held slightly away from her body at odd angles. Anyone who saw her would have thought she was fucked up, and she was, but not on any substance. Just intoxicated in the worst way possible by the only memories she had managed to keep pristine, despite them being the ones she wanted to watch fade.  
  
Luckily, no one was there to see her. It was 10 AM by then and Judie had already gotten out of bed and gone... somewhere. Nancy didn't know where Judie went during the days. She was disabled and couldn't work, but still disappeared in the early hours of the morning and didn't return until the late afternoon. It was a mystery Nancy didn't care to solve, even when she was in her head.  
  
Slowly, in a gait reminiscent of a zombie, she left the room and made her way down the stairs. She didn't know where she was going, but eventually ended up in the kitchen. She sat down at the counter and slumped forward, her forehead pressing against the vinyl countertop for a moment until she crossed her arms underneath her head in a makeshift pillow. She half-sat like that for a while, she didn't know how long, before she vaguely felt a tap on her shoulder.  
  
With great effort, she lifted her head and slumped the other way, her back against the chair. She managed to angle her head upwards to point her face at Mary Lynn, freshly home from her long shift. The younger woman wrinkled her nose at the sight of Nancy's glassy eyes.  
  
"Jesus Christ," she said. It was an accusing tone, but she didn't verbalize exactly what she was accusing Nancy of before moving on to the next thought. "You were screaming again last night."  
  
Nancy merely nodded, barely able to understand her words through the echoing in her brain.  
  
"You barely pay rent and you keep everyone up." Mary Lynn's voice was stern now. "When we all pool our money to pay next month's rent, I expect that you'll have something meaningful to contribute. Otherwise you might not get the luxury of having a roof over that sleeping bag of yours."  
  
That brought Nancy instantly back to reality, the transition happening so quickly that it almost hurt. She had been expecting that threat, Judie had even warned her of it the previous night, but it was still enough to turn her stomach. "Okay," she croaked simply, and Mary Lynn left it at that, walking behind the stairwell and disappearing down the hallway.  
  
Nancy let out a shaking breath, still recovering from her dissociative state. She needed money, and fast, because they were only two weeks away from the first of October, and as much as she hated the filthy house with its lack of water and heat and all the people who lived in it, it was far better than living on the street.  
  
It was at that point that she remembered Robin.  
  
Getting up unsteadily, she went back up the stairs and to her room to fetch her tote bag. At the bottom, beneath her clothes and her shower caddy, was a slightly dampened business card. The ink was running from being under her wet towel, but it was still readable. She took it downstairs and went to the phone in the kitchen, pausing before she dialed. She didn't know if this singing gig was even a paying job. The band seemed professional enough to have business cards, but did that really mean anything? For all she knew, this was just a garage band that had never booked a gig.  
  
Well, only one way to find out.  
  
The voice on the other end was low and groggy as she mumbled a "Hello?"  
  
Nancy found herself a little nervous, suddenly, but she didn't show it. "Is this Robin Buckley?"  
  
"Who's asking?"  
  
"This is Nancy Wheeler. We met at the YMCA last night."  
  
There was a long moment of silence, and Nancy almost thought the connection had gone dead, but the other woman finally spoke. "I don't recall."  
  
That seemed... odd. How could she not remember such a strange situation? Did she have the wrong number? "I was singing in the shower, and you said you wanted me to join your band?" she clarified, a little bit desperately.  
  
"Oh." Another long pause. "Listen, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. I won't lie, I was a little drunk. I can't decide who gets to join the band without consulting everyone. Sorry if I got your hopes up or whatever. You can still come audition if you'd like, but I can't promise anything."  
  
Nancy kept a neutral tone, but she was surprised. She had noticed a slight slur in the woman's words when they had met but, otherwise, she had hidden her drunkenness well; She had easily passed as sober. Absently, Nancy wondered what she was doing drunk at the YMCA at 8 PM, but she was in no place to judge. Instead, she'd stay on topic. "Well, I have a couple questions first, actually."  
  
On the other end of the phone, Robin groaned, making Nancy retreat into herself a little. But, she agreed. "Yeah," she said. "Okay, I have a minute. What do you wanna know?"  
  
Better cut right to the chase. "Does the job pay?"  
  
This silence was the longest one yet, but Robin finally broke it. "I mean, if we like you enough I guess it could. Not a lot, though."  
  
"How much is 'not a lot'?"  
  
"We could do, like, maybe $75 a week plus your cut of each gig. But the $75 is only if you're, like, a perfect fit."  
  
"How often do you guys book gigs?"  
  
"We have a standing arrangement every Saturday, plus maybe like two others a month. But we're picking up traction, I promise." Nancy noted that she sounded almost defensive about it, but she didn't know why.  
  
"Hm."  
  
"Why don't you just come in and audition? We're practicing in a couple of hours, if you come by and just sing something for us, we could work out a deal."  
  
Nancy let out a breath. $75 a week wasn't a lot at all. But it was better than having no income, and maybe she could haggle for more. "Alright, we can talk about it. Where should I meet you?"  
  
Robin gave her an address and directions, and they both hung up the phone. Braving the stairs to return to her room, Nancy shut herself in and began warming up as best as she knew how. She wasn't trained, that was obvious. She had never been a choir kid in high school, never had a voice lesson in her life. Her voice was entirely natural, unprofessional, but still somehow good. At least, She had always said it was good.  
  
Her voice faltered. Fuck, she was back on Her again. Could she just go one minute without Her infiltrating her brain? After a momentary pause in both her singing and pacing, she continued again.  
  
_'We grew up closer than most...'_  
  
It was the same song she had sung in the shower the previous evening, the one that she had once sung to Her. The one that had caught drunk-Robin's attention. Maybe it would capture her sober, too.  
  
An hour later, she began her walk to the agreed upon location. It was over a mile away, but without a car or a bike, walking was her only option. Eventually, she made it, though she was worn out and a little worried about how her voice would sound now that she had used all her energy on the way over.  
  
The location was a storage unit. Briefly, she wondered if the whole situation was a trap; This woman could have lured her there just to kill her and hide the body among piles of antiques that no one would touch for years. Maybe she should have turned back. Oh well.   
  
She quickly found the specific unit she was looking for, because it was open and three people were hanging out inside, one sitting at a drum kit. She recognized Robin, leaning against the wall with a guitar in her hands. If they were planning on murdering her, at least they were putting on a good show of actually being a band. Perhaps she would live to see another day, after all.  
  
The trio looked at her as she approached, and the man at the drums raised his hand in a lazy wave. He had a soft face and a friendly demeanor, but what really drew Nancy's eyes was his fluffy, gravity-defying hair, which he ran a hand through as if he knew she was looking at it. She took her eyes off him and let them wander onto the bassist, a young woman with severe features and very short hair. Unlike the drummer, she did not even look at Nancy.  
  
"Oh yeah, I kinda remember your face now," Robin said, standing up straight and walking away from the wall. She didn't sound nearly as groggy as she had over the phone, nor slurred liked she had been the previous night. Her voice was completely her own as she continued, "Wheeler, right?"  
  
"Nancy," Nancy replied.  
  
"I don't do first names," Robin explained. "So it'll be Wheeler. That cool?"  
  
Nancy shrugged; It didn't matter to her.  
  
Robin continued. "So, you gonna sing for us?" she asked. Nancy nodded and adjusted her posture as if to start, but Robin stopped her. "At the mic, please," she suggested.  
  
Nancy nodded and went towards the mic stand, turning it around to face the other three. She didn't know how these things usually worked, but she figured that, at least for her audition, it would make sense for them to be able to see her. No one told her to do otherwise, so she just looked around at their expectant faces and started.  
  
Her voice wasn't nearly as tired as she had expected it to be, and she thought it was going well. Robin was tapping her along, and the man at the drum kit seemed interested. The short-haired bassist, however, stopped her about halfway through the song.  
  
"I know this song," she said, narrowing her eyes slightly. "It's a duet. Why are you singing a duet as a solo?"  
  
Nancy shrugged, looking down. She didn't want to say that she had once sung it as a duet, but she no longer had anyone to sing the other part. "It's a pretty song," she said instead, a little defensively. "One of my favorites."  
  
"Never heard it before," the drummer cut in. "You're right, it's pretty though."  
  
"Do you know anything more upbeat?" Robin suggested. "Just so we can get a feel for your style range."  
  
Nancy hesitated, trying to think of anything she knew that was upbeat. For the past year, she had pretty exclusively listened to one Spotify playlist that she had made herself, titled: 'thinking of u'. Little on it could be described as 'upbeat'. But, after a moment of thought, she remembered a song she had used to listen to, that at least sounded upbeat in tone.  
  
_'Babe, there's something tragic about you_  
_Something so magic about you_  
_Don't you agree?'_  
  
Robin must have known it, because she began to strum along on her guitar, closing her eyes for a second. Nancy was struck by the way she seemed to meld into her instrument, like it was an extension of her body. She had the type of mastery that only came from years and years of practicing and perfecting a craft. It made her voice falter, which caused Robin to reopen her eyes and glance her way. She quickly recovered and jumped back into singing, letting her hips move a little bit to the music. No one interrupted her this time, and she reached the end of the song with a light spattering of applause for the drummer.  
  
"Yeah, that'll do," he said, cracking a grin.  
  
"Can you give us a minute?" the bassist asked, and Nancy nodded. She had brightened a little during the song, but she drew back into herself then, and stepped back to watch the little band convene. She felt almost guilty for admitting it to herself, but she had had _fun_ once Robin had started playing along with her. It was a different feeling than singing alone.  
  
After a couple of minutes, all three band members turned to look at her, making her feel slightly self-conscious. She reached across her body and grabbed at her opposite arm instinctively. It was Robin who spoke.  
  
"Do you read sheet music?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Well, that's alright, I guess we'll figure it out. You're in."


	3. Chapter 3

An unexpected rush of relief washed over Nancy's body. She had to remind herself that things weren't decided yet; She still had to try to haggle for more money, and that might make them change their minds. Well, it's not like she had another choice.  
  
"And what about the money?" she asked, trying to sound confident.  
  
"Yep, $75 a week plus your share of the gigs. Like we talked about."  
  
Nancy swallowed hard. "I need $400 up front." The bassist gave a short laugh at that, shaking her head. Apparently, she thought that was a ridiculous request. Robin and the drummer exchanged a glance.  
  
"$400?" Robin clarified, staring hard at her. "You're scamming us. If we give you that money, we're never gonna see you again." Nancy supposed that that was fair assumption, even if it hadn't been her plan.  
  
"Not a scam," Nancy assured her. "I just need it by the end of the month. You can draw up a contract or take down my information or whatever if you need to. But I need it, or I'm out."  
  
Robin turned away from her, towards the other band members. The drummer shrugged, and the bassist merely sighed. Robin looked back to her.  
  
"How's this?" she asked. "We practice every day for the rest of this week. Friday, you get the $75. You work like hell to learn the music, and Saturday we perform at our standing gig and you get your cut of that. If that goes well, you can have an extra one-time $300. I think that's more than generous."  
  
Nancy hesitated. "What does the gig pay?" she asked slowly.  
  
"For the two hours, we each get $200. But we each put $50 of that into the band account, so you only keep $150"  
  
Nancy did the math in her head. That would bring her up to $525 for the first week. If she could convince Mary Lynn that she only had $300 for the month, that would probably be enough to secure her place in the house for a little longer, then she could have money left over for the next month. She could make that work.  
  
"Yeah, okay," she said finally. "I can do that. Are we starting now?"  
  
Robin nodded and took a step towards her to shake her hand, sealing the deal. "Yeah," she said. "We've gotta start practicing right away if we're gonna sound good on Saturday. Especially if you're gonna learn some of our originals." She paused. "I suppose we should all get introduced, first, though. You know me, I'm Robin Buckley. This-" She motioned to the fluffy-haired drummer. "-is Steve Harrington. He's a dingus, but he has some good qualities. Somewhere in there." He wrinkled his nose at her, but she ignored him. "And on bass, we have Candice Young."  
  
"Candy," the young woman corrected.  
  
"Yeah, and she's just as sweet as candy, too," Robin said, sarcasm positively dripping from her tone. Nancy had already gathered that the short-haired woman was not particularly friendly, but she was used to unfriendly people. It wouldn't bother her.  
  
"Nice to meet you all," she mumbled, shifting her weight to one side.  
  
"Yeah, you too," Robin replied. "Now that we're all acquainted, let's get to the music."  
  
Robin went and retrieved a binder, which she passed to Nancy. She opened it to the first page, which appeared to be a neat list of song titles, some of which she recognized. The second page was more titles, but she didn't know any of those.  
  
"That was Emily's binder," Robin explained. "She was the most organized of all of us. The first page is a list of all the covers in our repertoire, the second is all our originals. The rest is all sheet music, but since you don't read that, you'll probably just use it for lyrics. We'll start with songs you know and perform them this weekend, then we'll move on to teaching you other stuff. Anything in particular you wanna start with?"  
  
Nancy nodded, flipping back a page and looking over the list of covers again. "I know Black Hole Sun pretty well," she suggested.  
  
"Alright!" It was Steve who spoke this time, clicking his drumsticks together as he picked them up. "One of my favorites."  
  
As they worked on it, Nancy found that she struggled with knowing when to come in. Once she was already singing, it was relatively easy for the rest of the band to follow her, but actually starting to sing was a problem. After a few tries with her completely missing her entrance, Robin came up beside her and started counting her off. That made things wildly easier, and slowly she started to learn where to come in without the counting. Eventually, they finally got through the whole song.  
  
"Alright, again," Robin directed, and they repeated the song. They did this several more times, and then moved onto the next song, with essentially the same process. Nancy began to realize how difficult learning music actually was; Her brain felt full and heavy, and she wasn't sure how she could possibly learn enough to fill a two hour show in less than a week. She imagined it would be exponentially more difficult when they started learning songs that she hadn't already heard, too. Maybe she wasn't cut out for this after all.  
  
After their third full run-through of Savior, Robin stopped the group. "I think our newbie is getting overwhelmed," she commented, and Nancy was surprised that she had noticed. She was usually pretty good at hiding what she was feeling. Robin continued. "Let's take a short break." The others agreed, Steve setting his drumsticks down while Candy propped her bass up on its stand. Nancy looked around for a place to sit but, finding none, ended up just lowering herself to the concrete and crossing her legs beneath herself. As soon as she sat, however, a memory popped into her head. In her dissociative stupor that morning, she had completely forgotten to take her pills. Shit. Shit, shit. The rest of the band looked at her as she got right back to her feet.  
  
"Sorry," she said quickly. "I forgot something important, I've gotta go."  
  
Robin looked bewildered. "Are you coming back?"  
  
Nancy hesitated. "It's a mile walk each way," she explained apologetically. "If you guys are willing to wait 30 to 40 minutes..." She didn't actually want to walk to the house, back to the practice space, then back to the house again when they were done, but she'd do it if she needed to. After all, they were paying her.  
  
"I could just drive you wherever you need to go," Robin suggested with a shrug.  
  
Eyeing her, Nancy had to wonder what she got out of the offer. From her experience, people didn't usually do nice things for nothing. After a second, she decided that the rational must have been to get her back quicker so they could practice. She could accept that. "Yeah, sure," she said. "Thanks."  
  
Robin turned to Steve and Candy. "We'll be right back," she informed them. "Write songs or something while we're gone."  
  
With that, Robin led Nancy out to her car, a little white Yaris with a scratch in the paint and a few dents here and there. Nancy knew nothing about cars, but judging by the condition, Robin had not been its first owner.  
  
She sat in the passenger's seat while Robin went around to the driver's side. As the taller woman sat down, she glanced over. "So, where are we headed?" Nancy gave her the address and she nodded, putting it in her phone and starting the car. "And do you mind if I ask why?"  
  
Nancy shifted in her seat, slightly uncomfortable. "I forgot my medication this morning," she explained.  
  
"What d'ya take meds for?" Nancy silently cursed at that question. She'd hoped that Robin would have the tact to just not ask.  
  
"It's a combination medicine," she explained, not looking at her. "Antiretrovirals."  
  
"What's that mean?"  
  
Nancy sighed, looking at the ceiling, then answered in a small voice. "Antiretroviral therapy is the treatment for HIV," she explained.  
  
Robin tore her gaze from the rode for a second to look at Nancy in surprise. "Do you have AIDS?" she asked bluntly.  
  
Another sigh. She had been expecting that question. "No," she started. "Not yet. I'm in the latent stage of HIV infection right now, but if I keep forgetting my damn pills it'll probably progress to AIDS soon enough."  
  
"Shit." Robin looked back to the road, quiet for a moment. Finally, she spoke again. "Is there, like, a story there?" she asked tentatively. "I mean, I guess you don't have to tell me, but..."  
  
Nancy didn't reply right away, deciding if she wanted to share that information with someone who she had only just met. After a second, she decided it didn't matter. She couldn't foresee an outcome that made her life at that moment any worse. "I used to use heroin," she explained, trying not to notice the way that the other woman flinched at that. "And I'd share needles with my girlfriend of the time. She was the only one I shared with, but I guess she was sharing with other people, because we both got infected." The rest of the story teetered on the edge of her lips, but she pulled it back. No need to reveal anything that hadn't been asked for.  
  
"You're clean now, though? From the heroin, I mean?"  
  
"Yeah, I went to rehab right after finding out I was HIV positive," she explained. "I've only relapsed once since then, over a year ago."  
  
"That's... good." It was obvious that Robin had no concept of what should actually be said in that situation, which was fine, because Nancy didn't even know what she wanted to hear. The two of them remained silent for the rest of the short ride. When they arrived at Nancy's house, Robin let out a low whistle. "How many bedrooms?" she asked, apparently impressed by the size of the place.  
  
"Four," Nancy replied. "But there's five of us living here, so it's not as impressive as it looks."  
  
"Still, way bigger than my studio apartment," Robin commented. "Can I come in?"  
  
Nancy chuckled darkly. "Only if you're ready to shatter all the illusions you seem to have of this place."  
  
They both got out of the car and walked up to the front door. To Nancy's horror, another of her housemates, Miriam, was in the kitchen, smoking a blunt and turning in her chair at the sound of the door opening. "Hey there, Track Marks," she greeted with a malicious cheerfulness. "You brought a girl home. Done with your sorrows for your Lost Lenore?"  
  
Nancy didn't say anything, leading Robin through the kitchen as the half-stoned woman continued her jeering. "I didn't think you'd be done grieving after you were screaming for her last night. 'Evelyn! Breathe for me, baby!' You know, for someone who barely speaks to any of us through the day, you sure get _loud_ when you're asleep."  
  
By that point, Nancy and Robin made it up the stairs, where Nancy forewent stopping to catch her breath and instead pushed through straight to her room. The combination of Miriam's words and the ever-insurmountable stairs had her feeling lightheaded, and Robin must have noticed because she reached out a hand and put it on her arm to steady her. "Your housemate seems lovely," she said sarcastically, trying to lighten the mood.  
  
"Yeah," Nancy mumbled. "They're all kinda like that."  
  
"Shit."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
With that, Nancy went into the dresser and opened one of the two drawers that had been designated hers. In the front corner was a green pill organizer, and she flipped open the Tuesday box to shake the pill out of it into her hand. She swallowed it dry, then turned back to Robin.  
  
"Alright, that's all I needed," she said. "I guess let's head back."  
  
They made their way back past Miriam and her biting words, and found themselves back in Robin's car. Once there, the taller girl let out a breath and pushed her hands through her dirty-blonde hair. "Okay, you were right," she admitted, confusing Nancy for a second, until she went on to explain. "The house is big, but I wouldn't want to live there. Why do you stay?"  
  
Nancy shrugged absently. "Rent is flexible," she explained. "And I don't have anywhere else to go. It's whatever, though. It's fine."  
  
"It doesn't seem fine," Robin said, wrinkling her nose. "From the looks of it, you'd literally be better off on the couch in my apartment."  
  
Not realizing that that was an offer, Nancy shrugged again. "Yeah, well. It is what it is."  
  
Realizing that she had to spell it out for her, Robin continued. "Let's forget the $300 and the $75 a week," she began, causing Nancy to look sharply at her. Before she could start arguing, she explained. "I'll give you a place to sleep instead, you can just sing as your rent. Then once we make it big and start getting more gigs and money, you can move out whenever you're ready."  
  
Nancy was surprised by the offer. "We just met and I just admitted to being an addict," she reminded her. "I've got a lot of baggage. You sure you want me living with you?"  
  
"A _recovering_ addict," Robin corrected her. "Here's how I see it. The band needs you, and if you keep living in that shithole, it's gonna drive you back to drugs or something. And you're no use to us if it kills you. So yeah. I'm willing to live with a little baggage to keep you around."  
  
Nancy was silent for a moment. She didn't completely understand why she was so important, couldn't they just find another singer, one that wasn't a liability? But, on the other hand, she wasn't in a position to turn down kindness, no matter how suspicious she was of it.  
  
She let out a breath. "Yeah. Sounds good."


End file.
